Someone
by VolleyballGoddess
Summary: She didn't know if leaving was the best thing to do. But she had to. Because there, she thought of him. And...because he wanted her to.  Calypso thinks of Percy. Post TLO, minor Percabeth.


**A/N: Well now. After months of having an FF account, I've finally published a story. Admittedly, I was originally planning on writing a Percabeth oneshot, but after hours of reading Percabeth stories, inspiration struck, and it was not in the form of an argumentative, albeit loving couple. Oh well. I'm no muse. My first Fanfiction, so its sort of a test run. Remember, daughter of Athena here, so flames have no effect (wearing Medea's SPF 5000 sunscreen), but reviews are like the ambrosia and nectar of my writing life. Thanks very much! Enjoy...**

She walks along the streets of the city, clutching at her bag, flinching now and then and the aggressive shouts and loud noises of the mortal world. It was silly to be afraid, she was _immortal_ after all, but the simple fact was she _was_ afraid, because it was all so different.

Her caramel hair was pulled back into its customary braid, and she felt…uncomfortable in the modern clothes. Despite the unusual style and material of the garments, she had opted for something like what she used to wear on her island: a soft white dress that fell down to her knees and leather sandals.

One of those loud, obnoxious machines the mortals used to move about (instead of good, living, breathing horses and a chariot like she was used to) drove by loudly with a honk and she jumped. The mortals inside laughed as they drove by and she sighed. They were so young, so young and unaware of the troubles in this world, the danger that they had barely missed.

She shouldn't have that about the war. The connection to him was inevitable, because it was _him _that saved the world. Just like she knew he would.

He pretended to not know what was going on, but his act of innocence was just that. An act. _She_ had noticed this through his stories, through the way his brow creased when he thought of something painful that she wouldn't understand, the way he ran his fingers through his messy black hair and cast a sad gaze out onto the ocean: as if by looking at it he could see the many close calls with death he'd had, and how one of them had brought him to her doorstep. How his shoulders, so painfully weak from his near death would hunch, like he was carrying the weight of the world. And he was. And then, how his expression would change, quick as the tide, and he would flash her charming smile, and her heart would leap, and her eyes met his startling green—

No. Not anymore. She couldn't think of this now, it would hurt too much. Wasn't that the point of leaving her island?

She stared at the strange street before her and gave a deeper, sadder, sigh. But it made no difference. She had come here, to this particular city for a reason. And it didn't work.

Losing a love again and again—it had happened to her every millennium, but...this was different. The others, they had forgotten her, how she had tended to them in their hurt, cared for them, and slowly fallen in love with them. But he hadn't. He had asked the gods—the _gods—_to free her. He had remembered.

And she had tried so hard! It was like the fates knew she would fight it, and had sent her someone sweeter, kinder, more generous than before, someone who would trap her with a smile faster than she could turn away, someone unpredictable, and brave, so _brave_…

She turned onto a quieter street, with different buildings that

But of course he would leave. It was like she was doomed that way, to never be able to get the person she loved to love her back. He had someone else. She saw it in his eyes, when he didn't think she was looking. Someone else was holding him back. He just didn't know it yet. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't live up to that stranger.

Her head snapped up when she heard laughter. It couldn't be—but maybe—just maybe—

Yes. Another peal of laughter and she didn't doubt it. She knew that laugh. Her eyes wandered around searchingly around the streets, around the buildings, until they landed upon something glowing against the wall by window.

Her heart almost stopped.

In a long, narrow box on a windowsill, faintly glowing in the moonlight was her flower. Moonlace. Oh yes, it looked different growing in a box than wild and untamed in her garden. But its beauty was undiminished. She faintly heard her own voice, a distant memory: _"Plant a garden in Manhattan for me, will you?"_

He had.

The laughter sounded again, and her gave turned to the window. His voice was accompanied by another, softer, lighter one. As she watched, a boy appeared in the window. He seemed older than before, more a man than a boy, but it was unmistakable. He seemed to be speaking to someone she couldn't see. A girl came into view and as she watched, he murmured something to her, and they both smiled, then he kissed her, his fingers in her blonde hair, her arms around his neck…

Calypso felt like she was intruding on something that wasn't meant for her. She turned away, blinking tears out of her eyes, but she felt less broken now. Because she finally understood. The others hadn't loved her because she wasn't meant for them. Someone else was theirs, and they were that someone's.

But maybe, she could find that someone for her too.

**A/N: Well? Don't leave me hanging here people! RnR please! I'm feeling a tad more nervous than usual. Whew. Breathe.**

**Thanks guys, for reading. Happy New Year!**


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